


Unexpected Reward

by RussianWitch



Series: Kinktober2018 [15]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Hand Jobs, Kinktober 2018, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 15:01:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16328240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianWitch/pseuds/RussianWitch
Summary: Day 17 Orgasm Denial





	Unexpected Reward

**Author's Note:**

> not betaed

They are at Steve's watching a game, but mostly necking on the couch like high-schoolers, groping and rubbing, barely coming up for air between kisses.

Steve pushing Danny against the pillows, and swallowing him down with barely a pause, groaning around Danny's dick like a dying man. The sight is enough to give anyone a heart attack, Danny is mostly torn between trying not to forget how to breathe, and not to choke Steve into unconsciousness, body rapidly growing tighter with the pleasure that Steve inflicts on him.

Danny almost misses Steve reaching for himself, rubbing his dick through his sweats. The sharp "no," that escapes him surprises the both of them, but the thought of making Steve wait—while he's taken care of, had Danny on the verge of coming.

"No, babe, that's mine! So, hands off!" He pants, mostly expecting Steve to ignore him, feeling his balls drawing up when with a shudder Steve drags his hand away from his crotch, digging his fingers into the flesh of Danny's thigh instead.

Steve's eyes, when he looks up from his self-appointed task, are black with lust and need, his lips red and swollen when he pulls off to gulp down a breath.

The sight takes Danny's breath away and makes him want things he's never considered before. His hand finds its way into Steve's hair, grabs the short locks tight, and forcing the former sailor further down onto his length.

Steve doesn't fight him, but Danny knows he's going to have bruises from the grip Steve has on his thighs. The pain of Steve's grip only adding to the pleasure of having him wait on command, focusing solely on Danny's pleasure.

Danny comes to the sounds of Steve choking, the man's throat constricting around him, milking him dry. The world around him goes fuzzy for a while, everything good and happy until his brain comes online again.

Steve, waits through it all, hunched over Danny's legs, his hands trembling where he's still gripping Danny's thighs, need radiating from every pore.

Danny doesn't mean to make him wait, wasn't _really_ planning on it, but instead of pulling Steve to him to jerk the desperate man off, he pushes Steve away. Sitting up, he caresses Steve's cheek instead, guiding Steve's mouth to his own, to taste himself on Steve's tongue.

By the time he's had enough, Steve is shifting restlessly between his knees, hips thrusting jerkily in mid-air like he doesn't even realize he's moving.

"I can't believe how hot you are!" He sighs, "I could look at you all evening!" He trails his hands down Steve's arms, caressing the tight muscles, all the way down until he can close his hands around Steve's wrists, "would you let me, babe?" He bites his lip, watching Steve closely, but hoping—suddenly needing to see Steve wait, just because he's been asked.

"What?" The SEAL freezes, staring at Danny like he'd just spoke in tongues.

It could be, Steve hadn't been listening to him, as usual, or that Danny has managed to put his foot in it but good. It's hard to tell with his brain still fuzzy with happy hormones.

They haven't talked about trying anything kinky, hadn't done anything particularly kinky and now Danny has opened his big mouth—Steve blinks down at him for an agonizingly long time, then a shudder runs through his body, and Danny feels him relax under his hands.

"Fuck," Steve curses unexpectedly, "how—how long?"

The relief of Steve's acceptance almost has Danny swooning, has him yanking Steve down for a filthy kiss as all manner of ideas clog his brain.

"Just—a little while, just till the end of the game, yeah?" Danny asks between biting kisses, "I'm gonna make you feel so good after, babe—," he guides Steve's hands up, folding them behind the man's neck, leaving the long, lean body open to touch, the wet spot on the tented sweats on display, "makes me hot, knowing you're waiting for me."

Steve groans, arching into Danny's hands, "yeah, I—can do that," the wet spot on his sweats visibly growing, "just, just stop touching!" He sets his jaw, shuffling away from Danny's touch to the far side of the couch, "just till the end of the game?" He asks settling there, while Danny puts himself away.

"Yeah, babe, end of the game," Danny confirms, throwing himself into the opposing corner to resist the temptation of trying to touch again.

They turn to the tv, but Danny is pretty sure neither of them is actually watching.

They are just marking time, waiting for the game to end.

Danny can almost taste Steve's need, the tension in Steve's body, the way his hands dig into the back and arm-rest of the couch as he tries not to squirm in his seat. The soft material of Steve's sweats sticks to his dick, outlining it, sliding over the hard length every time Steve shifts.

Danny can see Steve fighting to keep his hands off himself, just because he was asked. HIs dick is already half hard again, demanding attention, arousal simmering in his gut.

"He!" Steve protests, his eyes glued to Danny's crotch.

"I didn't say I was going to be waiting," he smirks, "it's your fault for being so hot."

Steve groans in answer, throwing his head back, baring his throat in a way that makes Danny want to pin him to the couch and leave the imprint of his teeth in the tanned skin.

"Danno—," he warns, but not moving an inch, which tells Danny, Steve doesn't really mind.

In fact, Danny decides, judging by the way Steve is trying to control his breathing, he is enjoying himself.

"I can't believe you are doing this for me, waiting all hot and hard," he tightens his grip on himself until it hurts, "tell me how it feels."

"I—don't know," Steve hedges, "it hurts, a little, but it feels good too, I—kinda like the challenge," he finishes with a cocky grin that sends fire down Danny's spine.

"Show me," Danny demands.

Steve huffs, squirming a little, lifting his hips to slowly work his sweats past his hips, freeing his dick to slap wetly against his abdomen. They both look down at the angrily engorged flesh that twitches under their regard. Fluid wells at the tip, spilling over to dribble down and disappear into the hairs dusting Steve's balls.

"Fuck!" Danny lunges forward, barely stopping himself an inch from Steve, "you're so wet for me! Don't even need lube, do I? All I have to do is make you wait—and you get all wet for me!"

"Danno!" Steve groans, his hips thrusting up, desperation dripping off of him, grabbing at the back of Danny's neck to drag him closer.

Danny goes willingly, allows another filthy kiss, while keeping his body carefully away, the game is still going, after all, the sound of it mashing the sounds of the ocean in the background.

"Just a little while longer, babe," he coaches, scraping his teeth along Steve's throat, moaning as Steve's trembling hands leave bruises on his shoulders and back.

"I don't think—," Steve mumbles into the kiss trailing off as Danny sucks on the lobe of his ear.

"Then don't think, I'll do all the thinking, just close your eyes and feel!" Danny coaches, massaging the back of Steve's neck and rubbing his abdomen to get him to relax some.

His eyes keep drifting down to Steve's twitching, dripping dick, he wants to feel the overheated flesh in his mouth, the weight of it on his tongue. Danny just knows he won't have to do anything but wrap his lips around it, and Steve will go off like a rocket, coming until his balls _hurt_ from the intensity of it.

"Shut up, Daniel!" Steve growls, wrenching him back by his already messed up hair.

It takes Danny some to realize he'd been hovering, practically drooling on Steve's dick having completely forgotten the game he'd started—only for Steve to remind him of it.

By the time the game ends, they are both panting like they've run a race, carefully not touching each other to hang on to the last shreds of control.

Danny's hand wraps around Steve's dick as the first credits hit the screen, he dives in after it, sloppily sucking the pre-come off the shiny head licking firmly along the underside of it—winching as Steve comes with a broken whimper, sobbing as he floods Danny's mouth over and over.

Sitting up Danny doesn't even bothering to wipe up the come dripping down his chin before going for his dick, stripping it roughly as he watches his wrecked lover try to catch a breath.

Coming all over Steve's spent dick, marking it as Danny's feels more right than anything he can remember feeling in a while. So does massaging his come into the skin of Steve's oversensitive dick while swallowing his gasps and moans of discomfort as he arched into Danny's hand.

"This—," he can't resist pointing out, even as Steve stiffens warily against his side. There is so much wrong and so much right with what they, what _he_ just did, "we are _talking_ about this, babe." He tells Steve who looks like Danny is about to shoot his puppy all of a sudden.

"Not the bad talk kind!" He hurries to reassure, "but definitely _talk_ with a capital T—and, I'm warning you, discussion of feelings will be involved!"

Steve shudders somewhat theatrically, but Danny can see him relax back into a post-sex haze, shifting and somehow managing to drape himself over Danny's lap.

"Do we have to do feelings?" He asks against Danny's abdomen.

"Yes, I think we really, really do have to do feelings, Steven," rubbing the back of Steve's neck and acting like he hasn't spotted his lover's smile. 


End file.
